


sometimes i wonder if you missed me (and i’m not even gone yet)

by kuro49



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Jason Todd is Robin, M/M, Overstimulation, Pussy Spanking, Trans Jason Todd, Vaginal Fingering, Wet & Messy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-15 03:35:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29057556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuro49/pseuds/kuro49
Summary: A long night dwindles into a slow Sunday morning. Cartoons play in the background while they play too.
Relationships: Jason Todd/Bruce Wayne
Comments: 10
Kudos: 117
Collections: BruJay Week 2021





	sometimes i wonder if you missed me (and i’m not even gone yet)

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by the iconic pussy jay drawings done by the magnificent [0toto_](https://twitter.com/0toto_/status/1329349514646401024?s=20) on twitter. i really hope this does the art a fraction of the justice given it's been living in my brain rent-free since i first saw it. 
> 
> also written for the day 1 prompt: "sometimes i wonder if you missed me" of brujay week, but like the before aspect of it if that makes any sense at all.

They are in the den that actually sees any real use in the Manor. 

The volume on the television is turned down low enough where it's really more of a droning murmur in the background.

But it's the flashy colours and the quick animated movements of the characters in the early Sunday morning reruns of cartoons he's missed during the week that has Jason mesmerized. He's got no idea where the plot is headed or what is really going on but the action sequences are pretty damn cool and he's not about to complain when he gets to sprawl out across half the couch, one leg dangling off the edge while his head is resting in Bruce’s lap. 

There isn’t a tense muscle in Jason’s body, lax exactly where he is, the perfect picture of relaxation when every line of his limbs is slack and loose and soft to the touch. 

It’s a part of the routine they’ve figured out, taking advantage of Alfred’s day off to trek up from the Cave still in their vigilante uniforms. Grab a handful of snacks along the way to settle in for some mindless television and call it winding down. It's a long night dwindling into a slow morning with Bruce’s hand slipping under the waistband of Jason's uniform pants, sliding smoothly between the scaly shorts and a pair of cotton panties that he's got on just beneath that.

The latter is really more of a surprise when Jason goes commando on patrol more often than not. Enjoying the thrill when he is seeking friction from the leather seats of the Batmobile after a particularly good run on patrol, adrenaline still pumping inside of his system, and he's eager to let any of it off in every way possible.

“Got to keep you on your toes somehow.”

Jason swipes his tongue to catch the crumbs at the corner of his lips, one hand dipping into the crinkling bag of chips he picked out from the little tray of assorted snacks that Alfred left out for them before the man retired for the night late last night. Jason is halfway through it, salt all over his fingertips still as he darts his gaze from the television screen to catch Bruce’s expression.

Jason's own is one of cheekiness.

Except it just turns into embarrassment when Bruce is looking simply indulgent at this unexpected little find. 

Cool steady drag of his fingers along the seam of Jason's pussy over the cotton, and it's barely any pressure at all when Bruce doesn't even press down. Instead, he is just passing the same two digits over and over and over again, tracing at the plush lips of his cunt like he's learning from touch, from scratch.

Bruce doesn't answer, he doesn't even say anything to acknowledge he's heard Jason at all.

So Jason tries to turn back to the show, his focus going a bit frayed at the edges. Bruce maintains the exact same glacial pace, just two of his fingers rubbing him through the soft cotton until the material is damp. Bruce keeps the pressure feather light, fluttering over the growing heat, grazing across the wetness as it gathers, soaking through with slick to cling flushed against his cunt.

“B-boss.” Jason finally whines out when the second commercial break hits, and he thinks he might just be at his limit when it’s been a full half hour and Bruce hasn’t even pressed a finger inside of him. His legs have spread themselves apart to the furthest they will go but he is still clenching down on absolutely nothing at all.

Bruce just hums, something light, something almost noncommittal as he brushes his thumb over Jason’s clit on the next pass over. 

Jason narrows his eyes at Bruce, trying to figure out the game here. With a flush staining high on his cheeks, he is turning his head so he can press his nose into the crease of Bruce’s thighs, feeling the insistent nudge of Bruce’s erection against his jaw underneath that last layer of soft armour. 

“You’re a dirty old man." His accusation when he finally gets it out between another low petulant whine lacks any fire at all when it's all muffled where he has his face buried into. "You just like it when I beg.”

“You got that in one, baby.” Bruce answers with a smile, intention lacing that last word when he knows exactly how Jason feels about it. That one word alone gets him hot under the collar, dripping all the way down the inside of his thighs if he isn't already.

Bruce draws his hand back just enough for Jason to kick off his shorts and the panties together, both pairs soaked at the seat as they land in a scrunched up tangled little heap just under the coffee table. He goes to pick up the remote control instead, turning up the volume just as the show returns.

It's still flashy, bright colours and dizzying frames of movements, but there are now louder shouts too.

Because underneath all that is Jason’s mewls as Bruce, finally, spreads his bare cunt between his fingers. Jason draws in a gasp at the cool rush of air against his exposed entrance, all pink and shiny from the slick. And then Bruce is sinking two down to the very last knuckle inside of him without any other preparation. He’s wet enough as it is that it goes in embarrassingly easy, and the obscene little squelch as the digits go as deep as they can really only cements that. 

Bruce goes a little harder than he usually does but he avoids Jason's clit entirely.

The man fucks his fingers in and out, sharp little sounds upon each plunge, delving in far enough to have Jason’s hips lift from the cushions of the couch.

Spine bowed and back arched, Jason has one hand scrabbling against the worn used leather of the couch while another fists itself into the fabric of Batman’s underarmour. Jason moves his head again so he can grind his face into the bulge just underneath, his mouth parted in a perfect _oh_ as he drags spit across the shaft where he wants to taste salt and skin, tongue drooling as he begs to trace the raise of thick veins up along Bruce’s cock. 

Jason is panting Bruce’s name, interchanging B for Bruce for Boss for _please_. 

“Touch yourself for me, love.” Bruce murmurs and Jason follows his instructions, pushing the hem of his shirt up until all the fabric gathers at his armpits.

Jason's fingers find his own nipples, rubbing and tugging and tweaking at them like Bruce would if those were his hands at his tits. He isn't any gentler than Bruce would be, it wouldn't feel right if he did, would've _be_ right otherwise. Instead, Jason plays with them until the perky little pink nubs are standing erect, bright red and swollen just like his clit.

He is a vice around Bruce’s fingers, clamping down and squeezing tight even when his cunt is spreading so beautifully under Bruce’s ministrations. Every pass along the soft walls of his passage has Bruce’s fingers try to bury themselves even deeper inside of him, the rough callouses all over the pads of those fingertips leaving him drenched. Jason can clearly feel the drip of his own slick down along his crack to pool under his ass, smearing across the cushions as he moves.

Bruce has to turn up the volume again to cover up all the keens and whines and cries that Jason is letting out. The man having to go as far as to draw out his slick-drenched hand from inside Jason’s pussy to get him to focus long enough to ask: “Did you want to wake Alfred up and have him find you leaking all over the couch covers?”

Jason’s eyes are lidded, whimpering with loss as Bruce’s fingers are withdrawn and go to circle his entrance instead, edge of a nail running up and down, admiring the puffy state of his cunt.

“Well, Jason," Bruce asks again, the back of his hand brushing along the tender skin of his inner thighs as he does. "Do you?”

Jason tries to say _no_ , to vehemently deny it because he isn't a pervert even if everything else here really does prove differently. But the only thing that comes out of him is a loud squeak as Bruce pulls back just to bring the broad palm of that same hand down over his pussy. The sound of the slap is really more wet than sharp. His skin goes from pink to red almost immediately, flaring and throbbing, all hot and tender and weak for the next one.

Bruce doesn’t make him count it, he also doesn’t give him any pause as he brings his palm down over Jason’s cunt once more with the same force. 

This time, Jason’s yelp is muffled where he buries his face against Bruce’s groin, and the scent of the man's arousal so close leaves him heady with it, like he hasn't already been strung along to the cusp of cloud nine for what feels like hours and hours on end now.

“You’re getting your pussy smacked but your hands never even once stopped touching yourself.” Bruce comments with a half smile, spanking him over his cunt again.

And Jason can’t help but wail out in pent up frustration: “I’m just d-doing what I’m t-told.”

Because his nipples are still pinched between thumb and forefinger, and they look downright pitiful now, all puffy and fat, the colour a deep red.

Bruce thinks he could wrap his mouth around them and suck until they are like that for good. Maybe leave an imprint of his teeth around one too until the skin goes bloodied and bruised. Jason sniffles as he pinches at his tits diligently, never once stopping just as Bruce said. He makes a deliberate point of it. Because Jason looks like an absolute mess, tears in his eyes, tracks of it smeared across his face, spit all pink with blood where he’s reopened the fat lip from last night’s patrol to bleed sluggishly all over again.

And Bruce hasn’t even looked any further than that neck line. 

“Yes, you are, Jaylad.” Bruce lets out, his voice is a low appreciative tone when he can clearly recognize that Jason doesn’t even flinch away from each smack against his abused cunt. Instead Jason stays perfectly still, practically presenting his pussy to Bruce for him to take him in any way he’ll have him. “You’re such a good boy like that.”

Jason's first orgasm hits him as Bruce’s smacks comes down right over his clit, a sharp crack of pain before the pleasure slams through him, hard and harsh and burning hot. He's been kept on edge for so long. He is panting, nearly gulping for breath, mewling weakly at the onslaught of stimulation as Bruce just keeps going, sinking three fingers into his cunt without any hesitation at all.

“Be good, Jay.” Bruce murmurs evenly above him, calm in everything but the motion of his hands, like he isn’t physically forcing his Robin into a second orgasm without pause. “You get what I give you.”

Little tremors in his hips, the inside of his thighs quaking as Bruce keeps rubbing his thumb over Jason's clit without mercy. Jason comes a second time in quick succession, unable to come down from the first, not even given a fraction of a second for any kind of recovery. This turn he climaxes riding Bruce’s fingers, taking them as deep as they will go and also as hard as Bruce will let him have it. 

It's deep. It's hard. He thinks he can feel it brushing the very center of himself.

Jason is still breathing raggedly through the post-orgasmic high, basking in the full body sensation of his afterglow when Bruce draws his fingers tenderly out of Jason's cunt, each one practically dripping in his juices. It looks obscene, leaving shiny tracks along his inner thighs as Bruce cleans them against his skin where he is _so_ soft.

"You're so perfect like this." Bruce tells him, and Jason is really more dead weight than anything else when he can barely even register the motion as he’s being physically picked up from his sprawl on the couch to be set in Bruce’s lap.

Jason comprehends none of it.

Not as Bruce frees his cock to lower Jason down on it. Not while Bruce cannot look away from how the blunt head spreads Jason's pussy wide apart before it is disappearing one sizable inch at a time inside of him. Not even when Jason's split open on his cock with his insides contracting all around him. Jason really only notices the sensation of taking something so much thicker than just a few of Bruce's fingers added together when Bruce is settling balls deep in him, crown of his cock pushing flushed against the opening of Jason's cervix, spreading him out to the exact shape of him.

Only then does Jason let out a hoarse sound, a weak keen, one hand against Bruce's chest, fingertips right over the Bat.

"B?" He whines before that too is swallowed down by Bruce leaning in for an open-mouthed kiss, the man tasting that bitter salty tang of drying blood as he slowly fucks his tongue inside of Jason's mouth. Taking that too.

The tune of the cartoon’s ending song is a very far away thing as Bruce starts bouncing him in his lap, grinding him down on his cock in a punishing pace as the man chases his own end. Each thrust scattering every last coherent thought from the inside of Jason's head until he is stupid with pleasure. Fucked out and physically shaking from being pushed over the edge a third time without warning when Bruce just keeps slamming into that same spot in him, punching out little uh's and ah's that are all drowned out as Bruce groans.

Overwhelmed by the thick splashing release of Bruce's seed inside of his womb, filling up and up and up until he is spilling over to drip semen down on the seat underneath them, Jason never does realize that it's not even the same show as the one he was watching at the start of it all.


End file.
